uickly towards him.

"I am hurt," said he; "do not leave me;" his disabled and tender
frame was overcome by the accident and the previous emotions, and he
fainted away. Ruth flew to the little mountain stream, the dashing
sound of whose waters had been tempting her, but a moment before, to
seek forgetfulness in the deep pool into which they fell. She made a
basin of her joined hands, and carried enough of the cold fresh water
back to dash into his face and restore him to consciousness. While he
still kept silence, uncertain what to say best fitted to induce her
to listen to him, she said softly:

"Are you better, sir?--are you very much hurt?"

"Not very much; I am better. Any quick movement is apt to cause me a
sudden loss of power in my back, and I believe I stumbled over some
of these projecting stones. It will soon go off, and you will help me
to go home, I am sure."

"Oh, yes! Can you go now? I am afraid of your lying too long on this
heather; there is a heavy dew."

He was so anxious to comply with her wish, and not weary out her
thought for him, and so turn her back upon herself, that he tried to
rise. The pain was acute, and this she saw.

"Don't hurry yourself, sir; I can wait."

Then came across her mind the recollection of the business that was
thus deferred; but the few homely words which had been exchanged
between them seemed to have awakened her from her madness. She sat
down by him, and, covering her face with her hands, cried mournfully
and unceasingly. She forgot his presence, and yet she had a
consciousness that some one looked for her kind offices, that she
was wanted in the world, and must not rush hastily out of it. The
consciousness did not take this definite form, it did not become a
thought, but it kept her still, and it was gradually soothing her.

"Can you help me to rise now?" said he, after a while. She did not
speak, but she helped him up, and then he took her arm, and she led
him tenderly through all the little velvet paths, where the turf grew
short and soft between the rugged stones. Once more on the highway,
they slowly passed along in the moonlight. He guided her by a slight
motion of the arm, through the more unfrequented lanes, to his
lodgings at the shop; for he thought for her, and conceived the pain
she would have in seeing the lighted windows of the inn. He leant
more heavily on her arm, as they awaited the opening of the door.

"Come in," said he, not relaxing his hold